Raven
by Kiro Angel
Summary: Severus compares his love to the Raven by Edgar Allen Poe. Kind of a poetry analyzation with lots of metaphors. Wrote this around Halloween. Because Poe makes his poems stick in my head all day, a tiny one-shot drabble thing. Slash if you bring a crystal ball and a microscope. HPSS, EWE, slight AU


AN:Okay, guys, as my Christmas present to you all I am getting my Fanfiction account caught up with my Wattpad account. Most of these are tiny drabbles, but I thought you might enjoy none the less!

A tiny little thing because I had The Raven in my head all the live-long day. Apparently I read way too much depressing poetry. A bit of a drabble.

Anyway, I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters, those belong to JK Rowling. I also do not own The Raven, that belonged to Edgar Allen Poe, the beautiful mind.

So this is far from my favorite Poe poem, but I have had it stuck in my head all day and I just thought it sort of fit Severus and Harry.

Hope you like it!

~Kiro

Severus, though it would be dangerous for anyone to suggest such a thing, was a closet romantic. Well, as much of a romantic as Edgar Allen Poe could be romantic. As a matter of fact, as might be expected of a sullen ex-Death Eater with an acerbic edge, Poe was his favorite author. He loved the shadowy crevices and layered darkness of the man's writing, his poems especially.

So it made sense that Snape would compare the things in his life to Poe's poetry. There was one in particular that, while the poem itself reminded him too much of his own past, seemed to exactly fit his interactions with a certain Gryffindor.

The Raven is, undoubtedly, Poe's most famous poem. And for some reason, the pitch locks of Harry Potter reminded him of the dark feathers of a certain carrion bird.

He interrupted Snape's happy life with the brash braveness of the young and ignorant.

"Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,  
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.  
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow  
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -  
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore -  
Nameless here for evermore. "

Severus had been mourning Lily, still, after all the years since her death. He was stagnant, living a life that he long should have left behind.

"Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,  
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.  
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;  
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -"

Potter, the arrogant brat. He took up as if he belonged in Severus' life, in his classroom. Made Severus think of things he never wanted to remember. Lily's eyes, her smile, James' hair and glasses. A bastardization of Snape's childhood friend.

"But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,  
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.  
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -  
Till I scarcely more than muttered 'Other friends have flown before -  
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'  
Then the bird said, 'Nevermore.'"

Severus couldn't help himself but be fond of the boy. He was Lily's son, after all, and had all the beauty and life that she had once possessed. But there was the prophecy, and the boy was to die. Of course, for nothing in Severus' life was to work out for the good. But then... Harry survived. And screamed in Death's face with a defiant heart. Because Harry had a single-minded determination that would focus on his task and not stop until it was finished.

"'Wretch,' I cried, 'thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee  
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!  
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'  
Quoth the Raven, 'Nevermore'"

Severus had not taken Potter well. He had scratched out, enraged by his living while Lily was dead. But, as the boy- man- said, she was gone. He might as well live on.

So he did. With his Raven.

"And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting  
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door."


End file.
